God of Death
by Dlbn
Summary: They called him many things. But in that moment, he was a God.


Dlbn: Evening ladies and gents! This is my first fanfic written on my braand new, handy-dandy touch screen laptop!

Nbld: That's right! Due to the damage to the screen on the old laptop, my aunt insisted I get a new laptop and bought it for me, even though I had my own money for it.

Dlbn: So let's break it in with a little _Loveless_.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Loveless or anyone/anything in it. That all belongs to Yun Kouga. I make NO money off of this.

000

There was just something about watching the life drain from their eyes. Something about watching them struggle and beg and plead for their lives to be spared; as well as they could, for they were being constricted. A well placed constriction spell here, well calculated words there, and people were like putty in his hands. Perhaps it was the power that came from choosing whether a person would live or die. Whether you would carry out the deed swiftly to limit suffering, or whether you'd drag it out to make it as painful as humanely possible. Some people were innocent and just in the wrong place and wrong time and had to be removed. Then there were others. Ones that did things. Horrible, horrid, disgusting, vile things. The ones that deserve no mercy. The ones that just _have_ to suffer for the suffering they inflicted upon others. Irony would have it that he was one of those people. With a sadistic, sociopathic, psychotic, most likely bipolar master at the helm, who could blame him for how he came out? You can't blame a dog when the Master orders them to bite, right? Woof, woof. He'd play the innocent pet game for now. But he, and others who were not all ignorant enough to believe otherwise, all knew that he _enjoyed_ it. He _enjoyed_ the begging and the pleading, the sounds of choking. The power he had to decide how, and if at all, the person underneath him died. Sometimes he liked trying out brand new spells and being satisfied when they caused more pain then intended, simply because they were new. He enjoyed coming up with more and more ways to kill them. His favorite would forever be making Fighters-fiercely loyal to the Sacrifices-kill their own master by a method of his choosing. Once the Sacrifice was deceased-normally after begging and begging him to let their precious Fighter go and spare their lives, or begging their servants to fight his power- he often left the Fighter to his own devices, most likely resulting in death.

Sempai tried to warn him. Tried to tell him that he was letting the power to go to his head. That his lust for blood was doomed to live forever inside of him and would only grow and grow in size with each kill; never to be sated. Sempai tried to talk him out of it, but it was no use. Fighters were fiercely loyal to their Sacrifices, their lords and masters, and would never disobey, regardless of who tried to get them to do so. He had seen friendships, family relationships, relationships themselves fall apart from foolish civilians trying to force the Fighter to disobey, and causing them to break the relationship that was threatening the bond with their masters. And as a Fighter himself, Nisei could not and would not ever disobey his Sacrifice. Make a big show out of how he was doing as told when he _could_ have just said 'fuck you' and done what he wanted instead, or playfully teasing his master with a sweetly hidden threat of not following the order; he would do that. But outright disobey Seimei? Never. His Sacrifice was as bad as him; two sadists, a sociopath and a psychopath. Where Nisei and Seimei's other fighter, _Soubi_, were opposite like light and dark, Seimei and Nisei were built from the same mold; perfect copies of one another thrown into different bodies and families and thrown back together by fate and a single name.

Was everyone he killed evil? Did all of them do horrible things? Abuse children, kill small animals for fun? No, of course not. There _was_ the occasional nut-job or rogue Units that they'd team up with Moonless to take down-that was before Beloved went rogue as well-but the majority of the people? Just ones who rubbed Seimei the wrong way or otherwise insulted him. Some were straight-A students with no record that volunteered at homeless shelters on the weekends and daycares after schools. Some of them were street thugs that had a thing for shaking down old ladies for their last Yen. Young, old; it didn't matter. If they stood in Seimei's way, they had to be taken down. The concept was so simple, he was sure even Seimei's clueless little brother Ritsuka could figure it out. If you asked Nisei, there was one 'victim' that was the most fun. She was Mieko of Bloodless, and she was in the way. She was too sweet and loving. Seimei needed someone much more vicious and cunning. And so, he sent Nisei to kill her, under the guise of being sent by Septimal Moon. Once she was dead, the Sacrifice named Hideo was left alone with hate in his heart and a thirst for vengeance against Septimal Moon. Seimei had Nisei replace Meiko with a sadistic, transgender male named Yurio. He would prove useful. Nisei often thought back to when he would be able to watch the life drain from the pale, thin, _fragile_ Fighter. Hearing Hideo beg him to stop and her to beg for Hideo's assistance. With the seed of hate planted, Seimei gained an ally and Nisei gained another notch in his belt.

He couldn't tell you the names of his victims. He couldn't count how many people he'd killed; how many Sacrifices versus how many Fighters. He couldn't tell you if there were more males then females or vice versa, more young or more old, more innocents or evildoers. It was quite entertaining that one of the evilest people in the world was the one getting rid of the scum of the Earth underneath the nose of the executioner, who was only thirteen and _far_ too young to do her job correctly. It was no wonder they got away with it for so long. It was no wonder that as they days stretched on and grew longer and warmer, turned back to shorter and cooler, the more the number of notches in Nisei's metaphorical killing belt increased. Seimei probably kept track of who, what, when, where, and why-he always left Nisei in charge of the 'how' and didn't ask questions, though Nisei often gave him extra information anyway, just wanting to make his master proud-so there was no need for Nisei to care. He was simply a dog blindly following the orders and beck and call of his master. Was it demeaning? Probably. Did Nisei really care? Not at all.

There was just something in watching the life drain from their eyes, hearing their tortured pleas and cries and begging. There was something about having the _power_ to decide the fates of others. Deciding whether they lived or died was easy; they all died. Everything did, after all, so why not move the process on a little quicker? Why not give whatever was out there controlling the universe-God? Flying spaghetti monster? Cthulhu? Fate? _The _Fates? The Grim Reaper? Many Grim Reapers? Satan? _Nothing_? Whatever you believed in-a little assistance, a little push into moving along the process of death? There was nothing wrong with that. They called Beloved _monsters_. Called them _murderers_, _traitors_, _killer_s, and other unsightly names. But were they _really_? Perhaps they were. Perhaps Seimei _was_, as Minami-sensei had oh so kindly put it once or twice, as mature as the devil himself even at a young age. Maybe Seimei _was_ the Devil. It explained why everyone fell for his shit, even the craziest shit, as easily as water falling from the sky.

Whatever you wanted to call them or believe about them, whatever they did or didn't do or were accused of doing or not, whether you were on the side of Septimal Moon or neutral or on Seimei's side, you couldn't deny one simple fact. They were _efficient_. Together, they did Gomon's job ten _times_ better then she and her useless Fighter Fujiwara something-a narcoleptic who only slept well if laying upon his master's lap, a unit who could only attack _or_ defend and never both-_ever _could. Maybe that was why Nisei didn't really care that there was a _death warrant_ over his and Seimei's heads, wasn't shocked when Seimei faked his death. They'd get away with it. They'd gotten away with it for so long that it couldn't possibly catch up to them now of all times. Not after the past three years they were getting away with it.

He was fourteen and 3/4-he always added the 3/4-when he committed his first murder on behalf of Seimei. Now at eighteen years old-a proud eighteen and 1/2 years old, he would proclaim when people told him that he and Seimei were the same age, he had committed more murders and committed more crimes then the majority of Tokyo. He was a weapon of war. A weapon of death and destruction whose deadliest weapon could be controlled, could be restricted, but couldn't be taken away; his mouth. His spoken spells, his moving lips, his dancing tongue; uttered syllables forming words, forming sentences and spells. Piercing through even the toughest skins and coldest hearts to pierce and rip and sting and shatter. He'd seen hardened gangsters fall before himself and his Sacrifice with the right placement and order of carefully constructed words and lies.

As that weapon, that nearly _unstoppable_ weapon, he was free to do what he pleased and what his master ordered without fear of really being taken down in the end to that final resting place (he was sure that if it did exist, and he really didn't think it did, he and Seimei would be side by side eternally in hell).

It was _power_. It was _playing God_. Deciding whether a person lived or died was the easy part. Doing the job was the messy part, but it was the part he loved the most. And as he stood and watched a fairly young Fighter strangle the last breaths and fearful cries out of her Sacrifice's throat, as he heard the Sacrifice beg her Fighter to stop before sputtering as blood and bile rose in her mouth and her breathing was cut off, he smirked. There was something about the chase. About finding these people and just taking them down in victory. They called him a sociopath, a psychopath, a sadist. And _yes_, he did strongly believe that he was all of those things and more. But for now? He was a _God_.


End file.
